


A Chance Meeting

by AuroraNova



Series: Can't Buy Me Love [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 04:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5952889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Philanthropist Jack O'Neill happens to meet grad student Daniel Jackson. An AU featuring Rich!Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in 2015 and definitely makes the characters younger than in canon. 
> 
> Standard disclaimer: I own nothing herein and am not making a cent.

Jack swung easily into the parking spot. He loved his new Corvette. It looked good and was fun to drive without being too ostentatious. At this point he was leaning towards selling the Ferrari, which was a sweet ride but showy. Jack had reached the point in his life where he didn’t need to show off the expensive things he could afford, and in fact was learning there was a real benefit to restraint. He wanted to be appreciated as a person, not a net worth, and that was much easier if you didn’t drive around in a $350,000 car.

He’d never been to this bookstore, but it seemed like a nice enough place. While searching for his mom’s birthday gift he’d seen a promising book listed on this store’s website. His mom was picky about the condition of her first edition books, so he opted to swing by and check it out.

“Good afternoon,” greeted the young woman behind the counter.

“Hi. I called about the first edition _Moby Dick_. Jack O’Neill.”

“Yes, Marv said to expect you. One moment, please.” She picked up the phone and made a call. “Marv? You have Jack O’Neill here about _Moby Dick_. Got it.” Turning back to Jack, she said, “Marv will be right out.”

While Jack waited another man walked through the door. About his own height, blue eyes with glasses, good looking, sneakers had seen better days. Apparently he was a regular, because the employee greeted him by name. “Hi Daniel.”

“Good afternoon. I’m here to make my payment.”

“Always on time.”

“Marv is good enough to give me a layaway plan. I don’t want to push my luck.”

“We got that German book in that you asked about last month. The one I can’t pronounce.”

Daniel went from ecstatic to crestfallen. “Oh! That’s… damn, there’s no way I can afford it. It’s got to be what, two hundred and fifty?”

“Two sixty-five. And you know Marv’s rule.”

He nodded, mournfully noting, “Only one book on layaway.”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and nobody will buy it.”

“It’s only a matter of time until my peers find this place, and Rayner doesn’t share.”

Jack had never seen someone so invested in their books. His mom, whose collection of first editions Jack added to every birthday, was fond of her rare books, but not like this. Not with this level of emotion.

“Mr. O’Neill?” A half-bald man came from out back holding an archival box in one hand and white cotton gloves in the other. “Marv Nelson. I’ve got _Moby Dick_ right here. It’s in good shape; in the interest of keeping it that way, I’d appreciate you using the gloves.”

“Sure.”

While he put the gloves on Marv took out the book. “The original cloth cover is still in remarkably good condition, as you can see.”

Jack took the volume and paged through carefully. It was in good shape, for a book that was over a hundred and sixty years old. “Doesn’t look like any pages are missing.” His mom hated that.

“No.”

Alright then. “I’ll take it.”

Marv grinned. “Excellent. I’ll wrap it up in acid-free paper for you.”

“Thanks.”

Daniel was browsing the shelves when Jack went to the register. “I’m buying _Moby Dick_ ,” he informed the employee.

“Great. Let me double check the price with Marv. We just got that one in."

While she left Jack looked over at Daniel again. He put the man in his mid-twenties, probably some kind of academic. Maybe a grad student, and clearly one who loved books. So much anguish over not being able to afford a two hundred and sixty five dollar book… it was alien to Jack in more than one way.

When the employee came back, on a whim he leaned in and whispered, “I’ll pay for that German book, too. Give it to him once I leave.”

Her eyebrows went up in surprise. “Really? Daniel will be thrilled.”

“Good.” What was the point of being a multimillionaire if you couldn’t make other people happy? He handed over his credit card.

Marv brought out _Moby Dick_. Jack found his mom’s birthday gift and made a good-looking guy’s day, so he considered this bookstore trip a success. After scrawling his signature he accepted the package and headed out the door.

His good mood was slightly dampened when he got to his car and saw a flat tire. After stowing the book inside, he peered around. A shard of glass was the culprit. He could call AAA, but it would be faster to change the tire himself. No point in waiting around for half an hour or more when he could be gone in a few minutes.

He’d just popped off the flat when Daniel came out clutching a brown paper bag. “Ellie said you bought me…” here Jack couldn’t understand what the man said. It sounded like a funny pronunciation of ‘antiques’ was in there somewhere, so he presumed this was the title of the German book he’d purchased.

“Sounded like you really wanted it,” he said.

“You bought a complete stranger a two hundred and sixty five dollar book because it sounded like I wanted it?”

Well, when he put it that way it seemed slightly weird. “Seemed as good a reason as any.”

Besides, Jack had recently started dabbling in real estate and made a tidy sum that way. He’d bought a bunch of cheap properties in Detroit, fixed them up, and was in the process of selling them at a nice profit. Not bad for a gut instinct. He’d netted $150,000 in the past month and that was only from the Detroit real estate, not counting the interest he made on the very generous inheritance from his grandfather. Point being, two hundred and sixty five dollars was barely drop in the bucket for him, and losing out on the book made Daniel so damn sad Jack couldn’t help himself.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Jack O’Neill. I’d shake your hand, but my hands are greasy.”

“Daniel Jackson. This is really generous of you, Jack.”

“My pleasure.”

“Can I at least get you a coffee in thanks?”

Jack checked his watch. He had a board meeting to attend, but not for another two and a half hours. Definitely time for coffee. “Sure. Let me just finish with this tire.”

Daniel watched as Jack put on his spare tire. “There’s a good coffee shop two blocks away.”

“Hope they have a bathroom so I can wash my hands.”

“They do, if you’re willing to put up with the floral-scented soap.”

Not his preference, but better than the alternative. “I’ll live. Walk there?”

“It’s faster than finding parking.”

Jack finished tightening up his tire and stashed the equipment. “All set.”

“Thank you. This book had a very small printing and it hasn’t been digitized so it’s almost impossible to find.”

“You’re welcome. So you read German?” he asked as they headed down the sidewalk.

“Yes. It’s helpful to read German and French when studying ancient Egypt. They and the British made off with a lot of archaeological treasures.”

“You’re an Egyptologist?”

“Yes. Well, technically an Egyptologist in training. I’m working on my PhD, and my Masters in Linguistics focusing on ancient languages.”

“I thought advanced degrees were obtained one at a time.”

“They usually are.”

Jack was intrigued. Alright, he’d been intrigued ever since he saw how much Daniel cared about his books. This just increased Jack’s interest. “Does that mean you also read hieroglyphs?”

“Yes.”

“That’s impressive.”

“Not really, but thanks.”

Reading in four languages, including one nobody had used for, what, two thousand years? That was impressive no matter what Daniel said. “Hey, I’m happy with reading comprehension in one and a half languages. Four is impressive.”

“Half?”

“My French has gotten rusty.”

“Marv has a great selection of books in French.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” He did watch French movies sometimes just for the practice, but reading practice made sense.

“Coffee shop’s just up here.” Daniel turned left.

“You come to this place a lot?”

“Whenever I stop by Marv’s.” In an apparent bid for conversation he remarked, “Marv’s is the best place around for rare books.”

“This was my first visit.”

“Are you a collector?’

“No, but my mom is and her birthday’s coming up.”

The coffee shop was a cozy, inviting little place other than the weird 3D abstract art on the walls. Jack didn’t care for abstract art; actually art in general wasn’t really his thing, but still, give him a nice landscape any day over something unrecognizable.

“Smells good in here.”

“They roast all the beans in house. Bathroom’s over there.”

When Jack returned, hands clean, Daniel was chatting with the little old lady at the counter… in Italian, Jack thought. Wow. This guy was seriously talented.

“You also speak Italian?”

“Maria – her son owns the place – loves a chance to speak her mother tongue. I recommend the cappuccino.”

Daniel obviously knew the place well, so Jack decided to go with his recommendation. “Small cappuccino,” he ordered.

Daniel paid cash while conversing with Maria in Italian.

“Thank you,” Jack told the other man while their drinks were made.

“It’s the least I could do.”

“Not necessary. I figured I’d have driven away by the time you got it anyway.”

“I’m glad you hadn’t so I could thank you. I’ve been looking for this for over a year.” He paused for a minute. “Maybe I should see if the library can digitize it. If you don’t mind.”

“It’s your book. Why would I mind?”

Daniel had a very nice smile, Jack decided.

“Have you been to Egypt?” he asked.

“A few times, on digs, and I spend a lot of my early childhood there. My parents were archaeologists.”

Something about that past tense sounded final, but Jack didn’t think it was a good idea to ask. Instead he said, “Have you been inside any pyramids?”

“No. I’d love to, of course. I’ve been in later tombs.”

“Like King Tut’s?”

They took their cappuccinos and found overstuffed chairs by the windows to sit it. “Similar to Tut’s. I haven’t been in his specifically. Most of the more recent discoveries are in those later tombs because the pyramids were looted.”

“I can see where the giant pyramids would be a great big ‘Grave Robbers Welcome!’ sign.”

“It’s an inherent problem.”

Daniel was easy to talk to. They talked a bit about ancient Egypt, and then the Roman Colosseum which Jack had once visited. From there they started discussing gladiators and gladiator movies which segued into a comparison with modern sports.

Suddenly Daniel glanced at the clock and Jack realized they’d been talking for forty-five minutes. “I have to go or I’ll be late for my French tutoring session,” said Daniel.

Jack wanted to see this man again. Hoping he’d read the signals right and supposing he had nothing to lose, he said, “I’d like to see you again.”

“That would be nice.”

Encouraged, he asked, “Maybe I could take you to dinner?”

“Yes.” Snagging a pen from an end table, Daniel wrote on a napkin. “Here’s my number.”

“I’ll call.”

“I look forward to it,” said Daniel, and with another great smile he left the coffee shop.

Not one to take chances, Jack immediately took out his phone and entered Daniel Jackson as a new contact.


	2. Chapter 2

When he called to arrange the date Jack asked if Daniel had a preference for steak or seafood. It’d been a while since Daniel had a good steak (that being, Jack supposed, outside the budget of most grad students), so steak it was.

“We talked about what I do,” said Daniel on the drive. “What about you?”

“I’m in real estate.” That was true, and Jack was proud that it was his own endeavor. Yes, of course, he had a hefty inheritance and he couldn’t have made money in real estate without it, but the research, the business, and the earnings were all his own. Though really, he spent more of his time doing philanthropic work with the foundation.

He’d tell Daniel the full truth provided things went well, but he wanted in the beginning to keep things simple, to make sure Daniel was interested in him and not his millions. Jack had been burned before in this department.

“An agent?”

“No. I do the buy low, renovate, sell higher thing. Detroit’s a great place for that lately.”

“Really?”

“It’s bouncing back. Not entirely, of course, but progress is being made.”

“That’s good. It seems like the news from Detroit has been mostly depressing.” After a moment, Daniel continued, “I’ve been enjoying the book.”

“Good.”

“It’s a bright spot in a week otherwise notable for incessant department politics.”

“You have department politics in grad school?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Over what?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“There’s the Graduate Student Senate, for one thing. Who gets elected, platforms, et cetera. The Anthropology and Archaeology Grad Student Association is always fighting over something; currently it’s if we should buy a new printer or a new couch. Grants, of course. Grants are competitive. Then there are always spats over which advisee is a given professor’s favorite. I try to avoid this, but it’s all around.”

“Huh. I didn’t realize academia was so cutthroat. Doesn’t make me wish I’d opted for grad school.”

“What did you study?”

“Geography.”

“That makes sense with the real estate. May I ask where?”

“Dartmouth.” It had been a good four years.

“A much colder undergrad experience than mine. I was at UCLA.”

“On the plus side, we didn’t have to worry about earthquakes.”

“There is that, but the beaches are a pretty nice compensation.”

“I can’t say the ocean was good for swimming,” admitted Jack. “Great seafood, though I got tired of the Boston baked beans.”

“I liked trying different cuisines in LA. My favorite was a little restaurant run by a Sri Lankan family.”

Jack had made reservations at a steakhouse which recently opened and came highly recommended by his brother. Andy was picky about his steaks, so if he liked the place Jack figured it had to be really good. The place was busy – obviously plenty of other people shared Andy’s opinion.

“Now, you can never go wrong with a good steak,” said Daniel.

“True. I’m definitely a fan of steak.”

He went for valet parking because it saved him the headache of looking for a spot. He held the door for Daniel, then headed to the hostess station. “Reservations for two, Jack O’Neill.”

“Yes sir. Welcome. Pat will show you to your table.”

They followed the young waiter to their table and sat down. Daniel looked good in his black button-down shirt and the candle light reflected in his glasses.

“Would you like to begin with drinks tonight? We have an excellent Cabernet from Silver Oak that pairs well with steak, and with chicken or lamb I recommend the Miguel Torres Riesling.”

“Daniel?”

“I’ll have a glass of the Cabernet, please.”

“The same,” said Jack. “And water, please.”

“Make that two. Thanks.”

They perused the menu until their waiter returned. “If you’d like more time, I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

“I’m ready whenever you are,” said Daniel.

Jack nodded, and his date ordered the New York strip. After placing his own order for rib eye, he asked, “So, any other languages you speak that I don’t know about?”

“Spanish. It’s not very hard once you know Italian.”

“English, German, French, Italian, Spanish, plus hieroglyphs? Wow.”

Daniel blushed slightly. “I, ah, also speak Arabic, Latin, and Greek. It’s helpful when studying antiquities.”

“I’ll say it again: wow.” This guy was seriously talented. “Salad?”

“Please.”

The salad bar, or farmer’s table or whatever fancy name the restaurant preferred, was included with the meal. Pretty impressive spread, even if Jack wasn’t much of a salad person. He was however a fan of staying healthy, so he dutifully took a respectable serving of vegetables.

One again the conversation flowed easily. They discussed the mayor’s chances for reelection (Daniel thought them low, but Jack disagreed. “This is Chicago, it’ll take more than a whiff of corruption to vote him out of office.”); engagement rings for gay men (neither of them saw the need); upcoming movies they were looking forward to ( _The Water Diviner_ for Daniel, _Mad Max: Fury Road_ on Jack’s part); places they’d like to visit (Daniel wanted to see Stonehenge, Jack thought it would be cool to dive between two continents in Iceland); and whether they’d sign up for a one-way mission to Mars (neither of them were interested, but Jack would consider a trip to walk on the moon as long as he got to return home).

Andy was right, the steak was excellent. Between bites Jack asked, “So where are you in the whole grad school process?”

“I should finish my linguistics thesis over the summer.”

“That’s the Masters program, right?”

“Yes. I’m finished the coursework for my PhD and am working on my comps.”

“Comps?”

“A long list of books and articles compiled by the members of my committee, which I’m expected to read and then discuss all of with said committee.”

“Is that the step before writing a thesis?”

“Usually referred to as a dissertation at the PhD level, at least in this program, but yes.”

“A lot of work. What’s your end goal?”

“Lots of digs in Egypt. Probably teaching as well.”

Jack considered this. Needing something to say but not knowing much about archaeology, he said, “I’d like to see the Sphinx.”

“It’s impressive.”

“It amazes me that they made it all by hand.”

Daniel nodded. “I know what you mean.”

It occurred to Jack that seeing the Sphinx would be much more fun if Daniel was there with him. Clearly, he was really into this guy.

* * *

Jack had Cubs season tickets. He’d been a Cubs fan his entire life and, as he had many Aprils past, hoped this might be the Cubs’ year. Jack had learned to love the Cubs from his father, one of the few ways he took after his dad, so he wanted them to win the World Series while his dad was still around to see it.

It was a decent night for a game so he was taking it in with his buddy CJ. Jack and CJ Kawalsky had been friends since their St. Ignatius Prep days when neither of them had the slightest interest in their respective family businesses. CJ was no more concerned by corporate law than Jack was by the O’Neill Industrial Manufacturing empire; he claimed he was too invested in the truth to be a lawyer. This made him a damn good investigative journalist.

And he had a journalist’s nose for a story. “You really like this guy, don’t you?” he asked.

“We’ve only been on two dates.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

There was no point in trying to outmaneuver CJ, so Jack admitted, “I really like him.”

“Good.” After a swig of his Coke CJ said, “Beth and I split this morning.”

“I thought things were going well.”

“So did I, until she mentioned that she expected me to ‘settle down’ and stop travelling all over if we got serious. I told her no way; I can’t investigate properly without travel and I have no plans to curtail my writing by confining myself to local stories. So that was the end of it.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. Better now than later, though.”

“True.”

“Anyway, I’m glad someone’s romantic life is going better than mine. Which isn’t hard at the moment but… anyway.” CJ danced around the fact that it had been a while since Jack’s romantic life was going well. He obviously didn’t want to talk more about his own breakup because he asked, “Sell the Ferrari yet?”

“I have an appointment tomorrow.”

“I’m telling you, I’ll take it off your hands.”

“Looking to cheat on your car?” CJ had spent the last two years tinkering with his ‘67 Mustang to get it just right and he loved the thing.

“Don’t tell her.”

The Cubs had a new pitcher out and he was off to a good start. The first batter didn’t even come close to making it to first base.

“So when are you going to see Daniel again?”

“Not sure.”

“Let me guess: the sooner the better?”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“It’s been a while since you’ve been this excited about a guy. Hey, that was clearly a strike! Somebody get this ump an eye exam.” Returning to Jack’s dating life, CJ continued, “Anyway, it’s good. Hope it keeps going well for you.”

“Me too,” said Jack.

He wondered if Daniel liked baseball or hockey.


	3. Chapter 3

Their third date the night before had been Daniel’s suggestion, a viewing of the university theater group’s _Julius Caesar_. It had been a decent play and their discussion of the themes afterwards was thought-provoking. No stereotypical third date sex, but Jack didn’t mind that. Without a doubt he hoped they got there eventually, ideally sooner rather than later. It was nice, though, to enjoy the simple thrill of getting to know each other.

Plus, they had shared a pretty hot kiss.

He made himself pancakes and ate them watching his fish. The saltwater aquarium, which he paid someone to maintain, was one of his indulgences.

Okay, the $1.2 million luxury condo wasn’t exactly living in squalor, but he felt no need for a palatial home when it was just him and the condo was a lot more modest than, say, his brother’s penthouse.

His fish were relaxing to watch. Some people meditated or did yoga. Jack watched his fish.

His phone rang. _Daniel Jackson,_ read the screen. He swallowed a mouthful of pancake and picked up. “Hello.”

“Jack, it’s Daniel.”

He knew that. “Good morning.”

The other man was agitated. “One of my acquaintances told me that you’re one of Chicago’s most eligible bachelors.”

“Oh?” Damn. He knew this would happen eventually, but he was hoping they’d have a bit more time to get to know each other first.

“I Googled you.”

And thus discovered, no doubt, that he was a great-grandson of the founder of O’Neill Industrial Manufacturing, which had grown to be one of the country’s biggest privately-owned companies. Better still (the internet would tell you), Great-Grandfather had only one child and Grandad stopped at two, so that wealth was fairly concentrated.

Jack sighed. “I was kind of hoping this wouldn’t change anything.”

“How could it possibly not change anything?”

He hated to complain, but sometimes his net worth was a drawback in the romance department. Oh, sure, there were plenty of people interested in dating him, but he could never be sure if it was him they were drawn to or his bank account. And then there was the awkward ‘yes, I am in fact a millionaire almost four hundred times over’ conversation.

“Daniel, I like you. I enjoy spending time with you and if it’s up to me I will continue to spend time with you. Can’t you just treat me like any other person you’ve gone out with?”

“I don’t understand why me.”

“Because, as I said, I enjoy spending time with you. You’re interesting, funny, and genuine.” Genuine being of particular importance, but it was definitely not the time to say anything that could be interpreted as ‘poor little rich me.’

“You’re serious.”

“I am. I’d really like to see where this goes.”

“I can’t afford to take you to expensive restaurants.”

“That doesn’t bother me at all.”

“I don’t want… it has to be a relationship of equals, Jack.”

“Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“It is?”

“Yes.” A pause while he tried to figure out the words for his next statement. “Daniel, I wasn’t lying when I said I’m in real estate. O’Neill Industrial Manufacturing is my family’s business, but I’m not involved. My brother’s the one who will be the next CEO. I have my real estate and my philanthropic work. I don’t like to start off with the family tie because for some people it just takes over and it’s not about me, it’s about the money.”

Unlike his brother who lived and breathed the business, Jack had never been all that interested. He knew plenty about it all the same. Dad saw to that.

“Philanthropic work?”

“Granddad set up the O’Neill Foundation before he died. That’s my role in family affairs. I’m going to be taking over as chair from my aunt in the next year or two. I’m also on the board of the Helen House.”

“Helen House?”

“A shelter and resource center for people escaping domestic violence. They do a lot of good work.” When Daniel didn’t comment, he plowed ahead. “Speaking of philanthropy, I have tickets to the Art Institute’s dinner and silent auction the Saturday after next. Want to come with me?”

“Is the Art Institute one of your causes?”

“No, but it’s my sister-in-law’s and she’s moody because she’s pregnant. Buying tickets seemed like the wise choice.”

Daniel chuckled. “Do I have to wear a tux?”

“Not that formal. A suit and tie is fine.” Which was especially good because Jack didn’t enjoy wearing his tuxedo.

“In that case, I accept.”

“Great.”

“But I need to go, my grant application is due by midnight.”

“Okay. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye Jack.”

All in all, that conversation went very well, and Jack was hopeful.

* * *

 

Daniel called Wednesday to ask if Jack wanted to join him for Friday afternoon gelato, which he very much did. Friday proved to be a beautiful late April day, perfect for eating ice cream/gelato and strolling around.

“This is good stuff.”

“I’m glad you like it. Too bad they didn’t have pistachio today.”

“Maybe we’ll try again soon.” It occurred to Jack that the school year was nearly over. “Do you stay here during the summer?” he asked Daniel.

“I’m here year-round, though I’ll be in Egypt for three weeks in August. That, and my aunt and uncle buy me a ticket to go home for Christmas every year.” After a minute, Daniel added, “Technically my dad’s cousin and her husband, but I call them my aunt and uncle. They raised me after my parents died.”

What the hell could Jack say in response to that remark about Daniel’s parents? Since he had to say something, he settled for, “Where do they live?”

“Suburbs of Portland, Oregon.”

“Any siblings?”

“No, just me, and my aunt and uncle don’t have any other kids. You?”

“I thought you Googled me.” Probably found that damn ‘Most Eligible Gay Bachelors’ article too.

“I only read one article.”

No internet stalking. Jack appreciated that. “One brother, Andy.”

“I take it his wife is the pregnant sister-in-law?”

“Yes. In a few months I’ll have a niece, and I plan to be a fun uncle.”

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a sibling.”

“It has its plusses and minuses. My brother and I get along fine, but I can’t say we have a lot in common. Never really have.”

Daniel considered that. “Are you close in age?”

“He’s three years older. I guess the plusses outweigh the minuses for me, because if I have kids, I always think in plural, you know?”

“Yes. You don’t sound sure on the idea of children.”

Ah, the dance of getting to know each other. “I’m good either way.”

Daniel nodded. “Don’t ask me; I haven’t decided yet. I’m only 25, so I have time.”

Jack supposed that might be his cue to share his own age, which they hadn’t gotten around to yet. “Some of my friends said when they hit thirty, they were suddenly ready for kids. That was two years ago for and I’m still okay with or without.”

Whatever information Daniel was looking for, he seemed to have gotten it, because he switched gears. “You talked about your foundation. What does it do?”

“We’re mostly known for the grants. Grandad endowed the foundation to give grants to nonprofit organizations which help people.”

“Such as?”

“Helping a school for the deaf get old lead paint removed safely, starting urban gardens to provide fresh vegetables, new computers for an after-school program so kids can do their homework. We just funded a grant for a senior center that needed to buy a new van. Things like that.

“There’s also Camp Opportunity, which my great-grandfather started to give disadvantaged city kids a chance to enjoy summer camp out in Minnesota. Of course now the kids get there and whine that there isn’t any wifi, though I’m told that mostly stops after a few days.”

Daniel chuckled. “I can see where you’d run into that.”

“Our newest program gives out research grants for projects that would benefit society. The first grants went to a group treating schizophrenia with a grain-free diet and a scientist who’s working on solar-powered ovens. She wants to make them available in Africa, starting in the war-torn regions where women who go out to collect firewood risk being raped.” This new program was Jack’s baby and he was proud of it.

“Grain-free diet for schizophrenia?”

“Apparently during World War II in Europe, when they had wheat shortages, doctors discovered this link. First I’d heard of it, but it’s interesting. Imagine if you could treat schizophrenia without piles of expensive drugs and their nasty side effects. Worth looking into, anyway.” Not eating grain would suck, Jack thought, but not as much as schizophrenia.

“Yes. I suppose it is.”

“Hard to get funding for a proper study, or so I’m told. That’s where we come in.”

“So you focus on directly helping people.”

“That’s our mission. Not that other causes are bad, but we can’t fund everything and that’s our big requirement.”

“It sounds like your foundation does a lot of good work.”

“I like to think so.”

“I wish you’d told me earlier, but I thought about it and I understand why you might not want to lead with your family money,” said Daniel.

Jack had never dated anyone who seemed so bothered to find out he was wealthy and he wasn’t sure what he thought of it. “Like I said, with some people it takes over. I want to be liked for myself, just like everyone else.”

“I can see that.” Daniel savored a spoonful of gelato. “The money isn’t what matters to me, Jack. But I live in a mediocre apartment with a kitchen barely big enough to turn around, I drive a fourteen-year-old Toyota, and half my furniture is from Goodwill, because I’m in the poor grad student phase of my life. I’m not looking for expensive gifts or anything like that, but I’m not ashamed of my life.”

“You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

“No,” agreed Daniel, “I don’t.”

“I admire you, actually. The languages, the dedication.”

That earned Jack a smile. “Thank you.”

“So any plans for the week?”

“Getting ready for finals.”

“I thought you were done taking classes.”

“I am, but I tutor one student in French and another in German, plus I TA Archaeology of Ancient Greece.”

“Ah. Not your finals, your students’ finals.”

“Exactly. What about you? Plans for the week?”

“Lunch with the director of Helen House Tuesday. Wednesday and Thursday in Detroit checking out a few properties. I’m about due to bring in some kind of treats for the foundation staff. Maybe cannoli.”

“Everybody liked cannoli.”

“What’s not to like?” Jack wasn’t quite done with the topic of schedules, though. “Do you have time Sunday for the Cubs game?” He’d asked and Daniel proclaimed that he didn’t really know enough about baseball to have an opinion, so Jack wasn’t sure if a game would interest Daniel.

“Sure. I’m always open to new experiences.”

So long as Daniel was open to a date with him, Jack was a happy man. He didn’t know where this relationship would go, but at the moment it was shaping up to be the best he’d had in quite some time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, the possibility of treating schizophrenia with a grain-free diet is real. The solar ovens are my own idea but I'd love to see it happen.


End file.
